


A Promise of Things to Come

by zara2148



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Don't care, Fix-it fic, M/M, Probably ooc, all part of the healing process, spoilers for hannibal finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zara2148/pseuds/zara2148
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps it was not fair to ask the truth of Will when Will didn't know the entire truth. Set during Mizumono, just after Hannibal asks Will to disappear with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise of Things to Come

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping onto the fix-it fic train. Not beta-d.

“To the truth, then, and all its consequences,” Hannibal toasts as he takes a sip of his wine.

As he sets the glass down, he mulls over his words. Perhaps it was not fair to ask the truth of Will when Will did not know the entire truth.

There is food untouched on both their plates as Hannibal stands. “If you would remain a little while longer, there is something I need for you to see.”

Will eyes follow his movement, his gaze neither open nor guarded. It is not anything but simply there. “I am in no hurry to be anywhere else.” 

Hannibal hopes to soon change that.

It is the echoing footfalls of an added person that prompts Will to rise from the table and approach the hallway entrance. Hannibal enters with his long-term guest behind him.

There is a long moment where Will examines her as she examines him, Hannibal watching the both of them.

“Abigail,” he breathes as one does when brought back from the edge of death. His lips remain parted as he struggles to comprehend what is in front of him. His eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, before finally resting on Abigail.

“How… you…” Will’s vulnerability hurts in that moment, radiates off him to where he might burn if touched.

It is Abigail who reaches out to him, as she had always been so reluctant to do before. She grasps his hand in hers and smiles at him, haunted though her gaze remains.

“Hannibal apologized for not being able to protect me in this life,” she explains, and Will understands the whole of his design.

“You were going to give her a new one. With us, in Europe.”

“I had wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised.” His breath does not shudder, remaining deep and even. But his body stills as he turns away from Abigail to focus on him.

There is the silence that precedes the birth of a universe.

“You wanted to leave tonight?” Will’s eyes don’t slide back to Abigail, but remain fixed on him.

“It will only take few minutes to make the necessary arrangements,” he reassures him.

A slow blink then a nod as the rest of his body language thaws. “I’ll write a letter explaining everything to Jack then… it’s probably for the best if it’s from me. We can leave it here for him to find. And… then we could go feed my dogs together.” Will’s gaze is quietly pleading now, though it still does not falter. “I can’t promise that seeing seven pairs of puppy-dog eyes won’t make me reconsider leaving them alone. I might need you there for support.”

And that is Will Graham exposed, Will Graham needing him in a way he hasn’t since a drive to Minnesota and allowing himself to need Hannibal in a way he has never done.

“I will gladly go with you.” If Will Graham will break enough for Hannibal to catch him and support him, then Hannibal will carry him to the ends of the earth and beyond.

Just as Abigail overcame her reluctance for closeness, if only for a moment, so does Will surmount his as he reaches out for his hand to clasp. Hannibal’s fingers close around his, already imagining what it would feel like for them to be interlaced. Like galaxies colliding, like a stream rejoining the ocean, like a butterfly’s feet kissing flowers after it first emerges from its cocoon.

It is not yet time for that. But the thumb caressing the back of his hand is a promise of things to come.


End file.
